


Fulfillment

by Mareel



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Beverages, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy Fulfillment, Food, Future Fic, M/M, Post-Decommissioning, chef
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareel/pseuds/Mareel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Making one last memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fulfillment

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place ten years after the launch of the _Enterprise NX-01_. The ship has just been decommissioned and Jonathan has been promoted to admiral in Starfleet. He and Malcolm have a long-established relationship. It is Jonathan's voice.

 

__________________________________________________

 

As parties go, this one feels more like a wake.

Staged by Starfleet to be carefully inoffensive to no one, it somehow represents all that I'm dreading about my new position in the Admiralty. It comes complete with lots of mingling, polite conversation with dull desk jockeys and their trophy dates, fussy food served as tiny bites, and the ultimate abomination – the punch bowl.

This is by no stretch of the imagination the kind of farewell party the _Enterprise NX-01_ deserves... and definitely not like the one he had thrown for her crew two evenings ago. That one was held in the mess hall, but spilled over into the observation lounge, the captain's dining room, main engineering, and god know where all else people gathered to drink and reminisce. 

Catered by Chef, of course, the buffet table included everything from prime rib, crab cakes, and pecan pie to the vegetarian dishes he'd created for T'Pol over the years, which had been enthusiastically enjoyed by many others. He'd even prepared some Denobulan desserts. And the open bar had been well stocked. No one was on-duty, so Chef broke out his best – from champagne and single malts to Guinness, not forgetting a selection of teas and espresso drinks. 

It had been a memorable night, one spent relaxing with the people who had become friends and family to each other over the years. 

But tonight... I look for Malcolm in the crowd. We'd gotten separated when Admiral Williams had dragged me away to introduce me to someone forgettable, probably a politician. He had pointedly explained that this person especially wanted to meet Starfleet's newest admiral. Malcolm, ignoring a snub that wouldn't have been made if I'd been equipped with proper eye-candy draped on my arm, had said he was going to get some fresh air. 

As soon as I could get away, I searched for him, finding him on the balcony outside the ballroom. Forearms resting on the railing, he's gazing out over the San Francisco Bay as the ice melts in an otherwise empty glass parked nearby. I still have no idea why they thought it was appropriate to have a farewell to _Enterprise_ party in some hotel near Starfleet HQ rather than on the ship herself. Or why so few of the officers had been invited.

I'm sure I'm not approaching quietly enough to startle Malcolm, and he doesn't turn as I slip my arm around his waist, standing close enough that our hips touch as well. 

"Malcolm... there you are. Thought I might find you out here. I got away as soon as I could."

He nods in the direction of the ballroom. "Glad you found me, Jonathan. I've been out here for a while now. I contemplated going in to get another drink, but that punch is vile. Way too sweet for anything alcoholic."

Pulling him a little closer, I bend to kiss him lightly. His lips do taste sweet, but not in the way Malcolm's mouth always tastes sweet to me. "It's probably a way to mask the cheap liquor. I can think of a lot better things to get drunk on. And a lot nicer places to do it."

Malcolm smiles, his eyes lighting. "Is that a proposition, Jon?"

I hadn't thought about it that way, but it's a good thought. "Sounds like it to me. Here's an idea. Let's go back over up to the _Enterprise_. It should be deserted, but I'm sure I still have an old bottle of decent bourbon stashed away in our quarters. I planned to go back to clear things out tomorrow anyway."

Malcolm wraps both arms around my waist and molds his body to mine. "I like the sound of that... not entirely sure I want to spend the whole night drinking though. Maybe we can find something else to do there."

I'm intrigued. If he just wants get me into bed, he'd have said so. He's definitely planning something. I smile as I kiss him again.

"You're still my tactical officer. Sounds like a plan then. I don't think I owe anyone any farewell speeches or even any goodnights. Let's just go before anyone comes looking for me.

_________________________________________

 

The shuttle bay on the _Enterprise_ was dimly lit and neither of us felt the need to brighten it. The rest of the ship is on gamma-watch lighting, but we don't see or hear anyone as we trace the well-worn path to my quarters – _our_ quarters for the past eight years or so. 

As we pass the turbolift, Malcolm reaches for my hand as he presses the call button. 

"I wanted to stop by the bridge first, if you don't mind, Jonathan. I left some PADD's stored in the tactical console and want to retrieve them before I forget about them entirely."

"Sure, maybe we should hit the galley too – see if there's anything left over from the other night. The food at that reception was terrible."

"Maybe one of your first projects as an admiral should be to lobby for a new chef. You hired away the only good one they ever had, I think."

He's standing very close as the turbolift opens onto the Bridge. The lighting is low here too, but my feet know every inch of it by heart... and there's probably a groove worn in the deck plating between Malcolm's station and the captain's chair. I pause there as he continues to his console. On an impulse, I sit down in the chair and activate the viewscreen, setting the view to astern... toward the stars. 

"Just one more time, Malcolm. I want to sit here and take it all in. No enemies, no battles... just the stars."

I must be distracted by the starscape, because I didn't notice him leaving his console to stand behind me, not until I feel his hands on my shoulders and the warmth of a kiss on my neck. 

"Malcolm?" 

"Sshhh... There’s something I've always wanted. Now is the time for it."

His voice has dropped into the throaty low register it takes on when he's aroused. Before I can reply, he has moved from behind the captain’s chair to stand in front of me, his eyes smoldering. After a long silent moment, he joins there, straddling my lap as he rests his weight on his knees... and against me. 

My arms wrap themselves around him to stabilize his position as I realize what he wants. Malcolm's mouth finds mine, his tongue tracing my lips, silently asking entry. As I open to him, his hands are everywhere... in my hair, on my neck, and one tugging at the fastener of my dress uniform tunic. I slide my own hands down his back to his hips, pulling him against me, feeling the heat of his erection through the layers of fabric between us as he presses it against me. 

My breath catches and I'm nearly as hard as he is. Somehow, I don't feel my age right now. I feel like a teenager in the back seat of a ground car with everything feeling new and urgent, maybe even a little forbidden. 

"Malcolm... I like where you're going with this. But we're overdressed as hell." And I glance up at the bank of surveillance cameras above the viewscreen. 

He follows my gaze and dismisses my concern with a single word. "Disabled." By then he's managed to get my tunic open and pushes it off my shoulders. He then slips both hands beneath the blue undershirt, running the palms of his hands from my stomach up across my chest as he pushes the fabric up around my neck. I let go of his ass long enough to lift my arms so he can tug it off, tossing it on the deck with the dress tunic. 

Malcolm licks his lips, giving me a possessive look before bending to trail kisses from earlobe to shoulder, ending at the sensitive hollow at the base of my throat. My head falls back to give him the access he wants. He knows all too well how I'll react to the touch of his tongue against the pulse point there. I try to stifle a groan and he responds with a husky whisper. "Let me hear you, Jon... It’s just us here." 

All the while he's been rocking his hips against me. The hell with his tunic... I want his trousers off. He apparently has the same idea and has unfastened mine, reaching in to cup my erection through the thin boxers. I shudder and my breath hitches at the firm touch. He knows... has always known... _exactly_ how to touch me.

"Malcolm... lift your hips." My fingers push beneath the waist of his trousers... startled to find no more layers there... only the familiar trail of hair leading downward, and the heat of his cock twitching against my hand. 

"You're not wearing... Malcolm, you went commando to the admirals' reception?" I didn't think I could get any harder, but he just ratcheted it up another notch. "Did you plan this whole thing?"

I feel his answer against my mouth just before his tongue darts in to dance with mine. "Planned? No... _hoped_... _wanted_!"

 _Wanted_... I'm dizzy with needing him right now, still not quite sure how to make it work for us both. 

"Hate to ask, but you need to stand up for a moment, Malcolm. Let me get rid of the pants. And yours. And... what do we have for..."

He's on his feet in front of me, letting his trousers pool around his ankles as he fumbles in the pocket of his tunic to produce a tiny bottle. There's laughter in his eyes as he murmurs..."Boy scout, you know." He hands it to me and it's just enough to coat my fingers and myself. 

By the time I've kicked off my boots and pants, he's standing naked in front of me, ready for anything. I sink back down on the chair and pull him down to straddle my lap again, this time with my cock pressed between the cheeks of his ass. I draw him closer, feeling his hot length against my stomach as I pull him forward enough to position myself close to his entrance. Wrapping one arm around him, I trace his cleft with slick fingers, feeling him shudder as they find entry. 

He helps raise himself up enough for me to replace my fingers with something a little thicker. "Oh fuck... yes!" He doesn't wait for me to push in slowly, but slides himself down over me until I'm fully sheathed. And then he begins to move, using his own strength to raise himself up almost off me and then slide back down.

Setting his own pace for the ride, he draws me into the rhythm with him and I reach for his cock, trapped between us. He's already wet and slick, thrusting into my hand as he raises and lowers himself on me. I shift my hips just a little and can tell by the way his eyes darken and his breathing goes ragged that I'm hitting at just the right angle now. 

He's tight as hell, and I'm not going to last. "Malcolm... god, Malcolm... so fucking beautiful." And he is... his head thrown back, chest glistening with sweat as he rides me against a backdrop of stars. 

I feel the knot deep inside that means I'm near the edge and lose the rhythm of my strokes. I'm panting hard, squeezing and rubbing my thumb around the head of his cock when he somehow squeezes his muscles even tighter around me and I can do nothing but ride out a shuddering orgasm deep inside him. 

"Malcolm..." My voice sounds ragged, but I know what he wants to hear. "Come with me..." And he does, before I barely get the words out he's pulsing in my hand, hot stickiness spurting over my hand and our stomachs. 

"Jon! Yes! Oh yes... _yes_..." 

I'll never get tired of hearing my name from him. I catch his mouth for a long kiss, sharing a breath, sharing the moment.

"Love you, Malcolm... so much."

He stays right where he is until I'm softening, and I shift him on my lap as I slide out. I just hold him, arms wrapped around him, cradling his head against my chest as we come down. 

There'll be time to gather our clothes and make our way down to our quarters for one last night together in the big bed. Right now, I'm happy right here. He'll probably fall asleep for a few minutes, he feels so relaxed against me. But before he does, I catch the few words he's murmuring. 

"Fantasy... fulfilled."

__________________________________________________

 


End file.
